


Fractal Patterns and Quantum Leaps

by Lothiriel84



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: F/M, Gen, Introspection, Two Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-07
Updated: 2013-02-07
Packaged: 2017-11-28 12:52:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/674603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lothiriel84/pseuds/Lothiriel84
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patrick Jane and Teresa Lisbon's musings on possibilities, past and future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1 – Fractal Patterns

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Paint It Red February 2013 Monthly Challenge - prompt: "In another life".  
> There might be spoilers for season 5 episodes.

In chaos theory there's a thing called _the_ _butterfly effect_. Basically it states that a small change in initial conditions can result in large differences to a later state.

A butterfly can flutter its wings over a flower in China and cause a hurricane in the Caribbean. However, it would be definitely difficult – if not utterly impossible – to track such a connection.

How can we say what caused the storm, if it could be something as slight as a butterfly? And even then, should we hold the butterfly responsible for what happened thousand of miles away from it?

Contrary to popular belief, Patrick Jane had no answer to either of those questions.

What if his mother hadn't died young, leaving him at the mercy of his scoundrel of a father? Perhaps he wouldn't have ended up earning a living from psychic trade, and therefore got his wife and daughter killed over his own selfishness.

But then, he might have never met Angela either. His mother would have probably insisted that they settled down at some point, leaving behind the carnie life she loathed so much.

What would have happened to him without Angela at his side? She'd been the one who'd tried to turn him into a better man, though she couldn't quite succeed in it.

Given what he'd been told about his fugue state, he would have surely wasted his life sleeping around and conning people in the meanwhile. While Angela would still be alive, maybe as someone else's wife.

She would have surely deserved a better man for an husband. Sadly such a thing meant that little Charlotte would have never graced this world, if only for a short while.

This thought made his stomach churn. He couldn't imagine the world without Charlotte, not even for a second. Were he to live a thousand years, his precious daughter would always hold a place in his heart.

If only he'd kept his big mouth shut, he would be celebrating her sixteenth birthday in a few months. We would be teaching her to drive, and trying to scare off her boyfriends.

Not that he'd have managed to do the latter, for he was positive that his lovely little girl would have turned into a most beautiful young woman by now.

He would have liked Lisbon to meet her. Though he wouldn't have met Teresa himself, had not been for the tragedy that had befallen his beloved family.

After being partners for nearly a decade, he couldn't imagine his life without Teresa Lisbon either.

Had they met under different circumstances – no Red John, no quest for vengeance, no burden of guilt from his past – he might have fallen in love with her at first sight.

However, that meant he would still be married to Angela, and he'd never have cheated on her and their daughter. Not on his life.

And he was pretty sure that Angela wouldn't have cheated on him either. Grown tired of putting up with his crap perhaps, but never betrayed him.

Now it occurred to him that maybe his marriage had never been entitled to a happy ending after all. What if Angie had eventually decided to give up on him and asked for a divorce? What would have happened to their daughter then?

He felt sick at the thought, and forced himself to calm down by taking some deep breaths.

Different possibilities about his past kept on branching in a fractal-like manner, and yet they weren't actual possibilities at all. There was no way he could turn back the pages of time and undo what was done.

All he could do right now was go downstairs and have a good cup of tea. And maybe take a nap on Lisbon's couch after that.

Her office had always had a soothing influence on him, after all.


	2. Part 2 – Quantum Leaps

Some people believe that change is a matter of small events that follow one another, so that you can't clearly tell when change itself actually takes place. Quantum theory gives quite a different view on this subject instead.

Change is more of a leap than anything else. If a powerful enough event happens, then you will be taken to the next level; if not, nothing happens at all. There's no third choice, no other steps in between.

Teresa Lisbon had only a vague remembrance of those things from her high school classes, but that was more than she needed anyway. Deep down she'd always known it was just a matter of world-shattering news that came upon you like a bolt from the blue.

Her mother being accidentally killed by a drunk driver.

Jane's family being murdered because he'd dared to taunt a serial killer.

Life could never go back to where it was before, no matter how hard they tried. Such deep scars were never going to heal completely.

It was ironic to think that they wouldn't have met, hadn't it been for the tragedies in their respective pasts. She would have never chosen a law-enforcement career otherwise, and Jane wouldn't have dreamed of consulting for the police under any other circumstances.

Her mother's death had spurred her to do her best in other to protect other people, while the murder of his family had given Jane his unquenchable drive for revenge. Everything would be different if those deaths had never happened.

Her father wouldn't have taken up to drinking, turned her life and her brothers' into a living hell, then killed himself at long last. She would have grown up in a normal family, and would probably have a life of her own right now. A husband, a bunch of kids – and they would live in a house with the white picket fence.

Jane wouldn't be consumed with guilt and self-loathing; wouldn't be the shadow of a man, broken and battered. He would have got the chance to see his daughter grow up, and then to grow old together with his beloved wife.

She might have happened to meet them someday, one of those happy families that always made her wistful when she walked past them along the street.

Then there was something else; a few unwitting words that had slipped out in the heat of the moment, changing the course of their lives once again. And yet, nothing had changed at the same time. They were still pretending that it hadn't happened, though both of them knew better than that.

In spite of the fact that deniability was her best friend, Lisbon wasn't as naïve as other people considered her to be. She knew that Jane had meant those words, he just hadn't intended to say them aloud. And a man who could remember all the people he'd shaken hands with in the past decade couldn't have possibly forgotten saying anything of the kind.

She'd been only too willing to let the matter drop anyway. They weren't dead, and Red John was still lurking in the background. It was safer to ignore their feelings for each other, at least until this stalemate would eventually be broken.

That was what she hoped – and prayed – for every single day of her life now. She'd rather have any other possible outcome than keep on playing this game of cat and mouse indefinitely.

As much as she didn't want to think about it, there was always the distinct possibility that the serial killer would grow tired of his own game and decide to kill one – or both – of them.

But then, they might succeed in getting to him after all. And that would be the final bridge they needed to cross before eventually moving on with their lives. Provided she could stop Jane from killing Red John or getting himself killed in the process, of course.

Until then, they were better off if they didn't allow themselves to get too close to each other.

For the time being, Jane's soft breathing as he napped on her office couch had to be enough.


End file.
